


His Humans, Their Monster

by Ellegamgee



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: "In story" violence, "Off-screen" violence, (I try but I'm squeamish), (also apologies if it is ever medically inaccurate), A Lot of Them Not Nice, Angst, Borders on major violence, But lots implied and threatened, Character inspired by the other half of the Penumbra Podcast, Comfort part not until the end, F/M, Forced intimidation, Hostage Situation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mockery, Multiple character injuries, Not too graphic mainly because the author is squeamish, Please read, Post Season 2, Sadistic and pain-loving character, Second Citadel (Penumbra Podcast), Some minor violence, Tags specific to Chapter Four, The bouquet is generally having a very bad time for most of this story, Threats of Violence, Violence, both physical and mental, main character injuries, non-canon compliant after season 2, please don't sue me, things are happening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-04-24 12:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22198954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellegamgee/pseuds/Ellegamgee
Summary: Arum will do whatever it takes to protect those he cares about. His humans, and his Keep, will do the same for him.This is tested by another monster, rather drastically.
Relationships: Lord Arum/Rilla (Penumbra Podcast), Lord Arum/Sir Damien (Penumbra Podcast), Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla (Penumbra Podcast), Sir Damien/Rilla (Penumbra Podcast), The Keep & its children (the bouquet)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A few things to tell you right off the bat.  
-Please be wary of the tags. I'm new to this, so I'm not the best at it, but I tried to describe it as best I could. Won't be quite enough to get it tagged as graphic violence, but it won't be pretty. Sorry to anyone coming for the fluff, won't happen until the end.  
-Good news: I have this story pretty well planned out, probably about 4-5 chapters. I promise I will finish it.  
-Bad news: I am very busy in my regular life, so I can't promise any regular or quick updates. I will do the best I can, and want to write it as soon as I can. But, unfortunately, soon is relative. Just warning you.  
-And yes, I vaguely based a character on. . . another interesting character we all probably know. While knowing her will get you a basis for this new character, I did not/am not going to make them the same, and have already planned some major differences. So, it's a starting point, but don't think one makes you necessarily figure out the other.  
-This is a big departure from my usual type of writing. I hope you like it!
> 
> If you want to chat on tumblr, I have one under the same name. I don't post much, but would love to chat!

The Keep was silent and still, and this frightened Arum. 

This was definitely not the _I’m-not-talking-to-you-until-you-apologize, Arum_ lack of communication of any sort that Arum had experienced from the Keep a handful of times. (Not since he was a hatchling, mind you, no matter what his humans said.) It was not even the _I’m-sick-and-napping, please-let-me-rest_ quiet Arum had dealt with a few months prior. This was _eerily_ silent,_ conspicuously_ still, and had happened too suddenly to be anything but something very _wrong_.

As soon as he noticed the change, Arum dropped what he was working on and found a nearby tree, pressing a clawed hand in an attempt at a physical connection, a small way to help strengthen their bond as he spoke to it. _ Keep, my heart, what is happening? How can I help? _Arum did not dare speak aloud, and somehow knew he would not get an answer that way anyway. And so, he listened along their mental bond, desperate for answers. Even in this manner, the Keep barely responded, setting off more alarms in Arum’s mind. 

The Keep’s response at first was only in an urgent mental tugging, a pull toward a certain place within itself that the Keep needed Arum. With little thought, Arum scrambled in the direction it was indicating, mentally noting that it seemed to be leading him to a small open space within a wooded area with no particular purpose and nothing particular of interest in it. Arum soon arrived at this spot, frantically checking around for anything that could have caused the issue, but finding nothing.

Then the Keep spoke, not from anywhere specific that even Arum could find. It still would not (or could not) speak aloud, but Arum could _ feel _ it through their connection in a way he could never explain- not sentences or even words, but feelings, deeper understanding than anyone else could comprehend. And what the Keep was feeling, was experiencing deep within itself, was trying to tell Arum, absolutely terrified him. 

_ Fear _ hit Arum like a blow to his mind. The Keep could not, would not tell him why, and that was even worse. _ Sorry, Arum _ flowed to him in waves, regret and shame about something that was being blocked from him. _ Worry, worry, worry, worry _ punctuated every thought like arrows, along with _ please, no, don’t _ that came to him in a tightening of every muscle in his body. Strangest of all, _ pain _ like poison in his veins infiltrated through the Keep's very soul. But, it was not the Keep’s pain, at least not physically. For it was not like how he felt when the Keep was being attacked, echoed into him all the way from Fort Terminus. Still, he felt it, in every part of him, confusingly but all too real.

Before Arum could even process everything that the Keep was able to show him, and all that it wasn't, the Keep opened a portal, not even a few arm lengths in front of him. Usually, when the Keep opened a portal, it was large, and held open long enough for the intended traveler to easily pass through, and announced with the Keep´s version of the person's name. This time, silence and stillness continued to reign. The jagged opening had barely enough room for someone like Arum to move through, and began closing after only a few moments open. When a figure, a monster, strode through, it snapped shut, as if the Keep wanted it closed as soon as possible. After seeing who it was, Arum could not blame it in the slightest.

Arum instantly recognized this monster as one of the Cahnoors. Whether this was their species, family, or title, or something else entirely, very few outside of them knew, but this is what she and the others like them called themselves. They were fish-like monsters, though otherwise similar in size and form to Arum himself, though somewhat larger. And in fact, Arum knew that some even called them by a nickname of some creature said to live in far off oceans. He forgot the name, but had seen pictures of these fish, in a book that belonged to Amaryllis, and the similarity was accurate enough. Like those fish, the Cahnoors had scaly skin- mostly gray with flecks of silver, dark eyes, and huge, sharp teeth, though these monsters had them in several rows, filling so much of their mouths that it affected their speech. (Other monsters might try to imitate their speech patterns in mockery, but never to their faces, if they wanted to live.) Both their hands and their bare feet were webbed, and Arum knew that their hands were seen by any who crossed them as weapons, both because of their strength, and for other reasons special to their kind. These monsters were generally known to be hired by the highest bidder, as protection and, more often than not, mercenaries.

Knowing she was one of _them _was bad enough, but even before she spoke, this particular member of that group had a reputation that proceeded her, though Arum had met her only once, briefly. Her jaw jutted out even more than others, past her nose, mouth frequently forming a grin that made others shudder. Bright red fabric encircled her torso, and her dark, stringy hair ran down her back; she dealt in brute force, not in subtlety or stealth. Across all her limbs, and on her face and neck, Arum could see cuts and scars, and even one of her ears, more human than fish-like, was missing. Yet Arum knew that this was evidence of past combat, and that few, if any, had opposed her to live and tell the tale, so even these inadvertently grew her reputation. 

This was Visee, a leader and the most fearsome of the Cahnoors that Arum had ever known. Others of her kind were known for their strength, but had little in the way of brain power. Unfortunately, Visee seemed to have the best of both: a warrior as strong, as fast, as powerful as any of her people, but also knowledgeable, clever, and eager to cause pain in any who opposed her, especially if she was being paid for it. If she was hired for a job, she was sure to follow through, and did so in the most enjoyable way for her as possible, which usually meant the most painful for others. The only time Arum had meant Visee previously, she had been hired to oversee the handing off of some of his work by the monster who hired him, to make sure he didn’t cheat. The transaction had gone as quickly as possible, but could not go quick enough for Arum at the time, as Visee spent the entirety of it watching, smiling, waiting for something to go wrong so she could make someone pay, violently. Now, this same monster, with that same grin, stood in his Keep, looking at Arum like he was her next victim. 

"Hello there,_ Lord _ Arum!” Visee’s exaggerated formal speech, the bowing of her head in his direction, the wave of her hands, all showed a mockery that was typical for her, from the rumors Arum had heard. “It’s so good to see you again! And I have heard so much about you, and how skillful of an architect you are, so I just had to speak with you in person, to find out how much of it is true.” Every word was dripping with sarcasm, but Arum knew better than to focus on that. (Or, for that matter, how every syllable sounded like it was formed through a mouthful of food.) “And your Keep! You know, I just had the most wonderful conversation with it. So. . . interesting, especially for an overgrown plant.” 

_ The Keep would not let her in through false flattery, or even threats of force, at least the way that Visee does them. _ Arum thought, repressing panic. _ How did she convince it to make a portal and let her in? And not only that, but to not warn me, or speak or move since? Her kind have no magic, so what could she have possibly done? _Though of course he was confident enough in his abilities in some areas, Arum knew he did not wish to be against Visee one-on-one. He longed for any sort of support, ideally the Keep at full capacity. If not that, then his Damien, his skill with the bow and sword an asset in such a situation, paired well with his caring heart. Or Amaryllis and her wit, solving seemingly insurmountable problems in ways that Arum would not have conceived. Even their other, knightly friends would have been a welcome relief, especially if they could rid him of this unwelcome intruder. Arum crossed his arms and stiffened his figure, masking the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him.

"What do you want, Visee of the Cahnoors?" Arum attempted to maintain a level voice, but couldn't stop his tone from sounding more like a growl, snapping at the monster's name. She sneered, but didn't reply. "Yes, I know you as well, or at least enough of you. And I know it's unlikely that you came here simply to meet me, or my Keep, reputation though we have." He paused, and when she still didn't give an answer, Arum forged ahead with his own. "My guess is that you, or someone who paid you enough, wants my services, most likely in creating weapons. Well, let me save you the trouble of asking, and give you my reply, if that is indeed your question: No." Arum expected a reaction, but Visee only quirked a brow at him. "I am no longer selling my services, certainly not in weapon-making. So I will need you to leave, if that was your purpose for coming here." A tremble pulsed through him, originating from his mental link with the Keep.

"And here I was trying to be _nice_." Visee stated, shaking her head. She stretched her arms, and in doing so, Arum saw again a feature of her kind he wished he wouldn't have to again. There they were: long, sharp claws that had previously been retracted, one growing from each finger, until they were as lengthy, sharp, and deadly as long knives. Slowly, Visee moved each hand in a circle, under the ruse of checking each blade, but Arum knew she was just showing them off. "You just want to talk _business_. Well, if you insist."

Deliberately, Visee closed the space between the two of them, until they were only a pace apart. "Well, you did guess correctly, I will admit, _ clever, Lord _ Arum." She seemed unable to say his title without mockery in her voice. "I was hired by a _ very generous _ fellow monster, to convince you to come out of your little _ retirement _ . Yes, other monsters know you have stopped working, and most know why, as well." Visee grinned even wider and licked her front row of teeth. "Thing is, they hired me-paid me very well, I might add- to get you to work for them. Didn't specify _ how _ to convince you. First try, easiest way, was just to ask. Other way, won't be so. . . nice."

"You sure you're not interested?" Visee leaned in conspiratorially, putting on an act like she was doing him a favor. “Really good pay, if you like that sort of thing. Plus, you get to use those particular skills of yours, and maybe leave some. . . pesky . . . distractions behind.” Arum could guess what she was talking about, but refused to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it. “Last chance, _Lord _Arum. Are you interested?”

“Leave. Now.” Arum didn’t bother with niceties, with arguing or negotiating. This was not something that he was going to change his mind on, and Visee knew that. Still, though he would do his best not to show it, Arum was very concerned with what Visee was planning on doing, or already had done, to convince him otherwise. 

“All right then. Fine. We’ll try the other way. Now, you can’t say I didn’t try to be _ nice _.” Visee fully sounded as though this was the option that she preferred, that any other option was only a formality. She turned, looking toward the spot in the clearing that she had previously emerged from. “It’s time to open that door up, you big shrubbery!”

For a moment, Arum could not even comprehend that Visee was speaking to the Keep. When he did, anger consumed him once more. _ How dare she. . . . _ The fire within him was replaced by an ache, as the Keep actually _ listened _ to her and opened up a portal once again, about a half dozen paces away from them, bigger and more solid this time. _ Oh, my dear Keep, why would you do this? _At first, Arum only saw the two looming figures that went through the portal: two more of the Cahnoors. These were larger, and looked stronger, although their eyes were also more vacant. Still, they looked very alike to Visee except for her identifying features, so much so that Arum knew that these were her lackeys, who some rumored to be related to her. He would believe it, except that he did not want to think on what that would entail. Like Visee, these two had their claws out, though Visee had retracted hers once more, having made her point. 

Though the Cahnoors drew Arum’s eyes first, it was the other two figures coming- no, being _ dragged _ \- through the portal that were much more important to him. Each of the two monsters had a human they pushed ahead of them, wrists bound at their front, claws at their throat, until the portal closed behind them. When Arum saw them, he could swear that his heart stopped for just a fraction of a moment, before pounding so much it threatened to escape his chest. Because it was not just any humans they brought in, one wrong move away from pain, from dismemberment, from _ death _. 

One was the greatest knight amongst the humans (in Arum's opinion), Sir Damien the Pious. The other was their best doctor (Arum knew as a fact), Amaryllis of Exile.

His honeysuckle.

His Amaryllis.

Arum could not breathe. Arum felt himself almost throw up.

_They are bound, and injured, and in pain._ A small voice in his mind said. _But they are _alive. _Make sure they _stay_ that way. _

Arum forced himself to look closer, to assess the situation. Amaryllis was shaking, from pain or fear, he could not tell, and did not want to ask himself, as there was no good answer. A set of long gashes stretched down one of her Amaryllis' arms, obvious in their origin. Her lips were pressed tight together, a way he knew she used to keep herself grounded. Yet, when he met her eyes, they were smoldering, like she desired to set Visee and her cronies on fire with just a look, and seemed very close to doing so. _ Brave Amaryllis. _

And oh, Damien. Damien clutched his side with bound hands, hiding what Arum knew must be an agonizing wound. He bit his lip to suppress himself, so much that Arum would have worried that it would bleed, if there were not worse problems going on. Damien's head was bowed, turning only to glance now and again at Amaryllis. This was accompanied by soundless winces wracking him. Arum could practically hear his silent prayers to his saint, that Arum hoped against hope would help him. Strangely, they seemed to do so, as his ragged breathing slowed a bit, though his eyes wandered to Amaryllis once more, with one more contortion of his face as he did. When he finally looked toward Arum, he saw resolve like steel from Damien. _Steadfast honeysuckle._

All four of Arum's hands stretched toward his loves, as if his limbs were acting on behalf of his heart and not listening to his mind. With every bit of control Arum had left, he kept his feet firmly planted on the ground, not daring to move forward or speak. Instead, he attempted to silently give them his love, with his face, his eyes, his hands, soul bared and hoping they could read it. _ I love you. _ He thought, though it was still difficult to say aloud any other time. _ I am so sorry. I will not let them hurt you any more. Please live, please be all right. You _ must, please. _ Be well. _ It was almost like how Arum communicated with his Keep, hoping to get emotions across when words were risky. A twitch of the mouth, as close to a smile as she could manage, flitted across Amaryllis' face. Damien's face softened just a bit, and he tilted his head. _ I think they understand. Well enough, at least. _

These observations all occurred within the span of a minute, if that. The two brutes stood behind the humans, claws never far from their necks, awaiting orders seemingly without thought. Visee was. . . she was _ chuckling _, sparkling eyes filled with amusement, shifting between Aum and the humans like she had been given a lovely present. Arum had to resist the urge to strike Visee for that alone.

"So, _Lord_ Arum." Visee's voice sounded like a very failed attempt at casual, unable to hide her excitement. "Let's try again. Want to be my employer's new architect? I am guessing you might have a bit of a . . . different opinion on the matter now. Compensation might have changed from my first offer, but you'll like it better." She paused, letting him contemplate said "compensation." "Think you could listen to my offer now?"

Both Damien and Amaryllis grew wide-eyed at the question, and shook their heads frantically, knowing full well that Arum did not want this. Arum raised one hand in their direction, trying to assuage their fears and placate them. _ It will be well. I'll make sure of it. _ He tried to convey this, though his raised hand was far from steady, not able to believe but trying to convince them and himself.

_My Keep is here, but will not respond. My loves are alive, but being threatened with death unless I do as Visee commands. _Arum thought grimly. _Still, they will not lose hope, I know, so I cannot, either._

Arum pushed through his humans' objections, and his own misgivings, to give his best confident stare at Visee. "I'm listening."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mild violence and a lot of description of a hostage situation.  
Like I said in the tags, the Bouquet aren't having a good time for the first few chapters.

Arum's main problem, apart from the pain his humans were in and the seeming control of his Keep by an outside source, was just how much  _ enjoyment  _ Visee was apparently getting from the whole situation. "Now,  _ Lord  _ Arum, before we continue with negotiations, I would like to let you in on the rules of our little  _ game _ ." Visee drawled. "I suppose I didn't tell you, I've been playing a fun game with the humans. I heard they do like them as much as us monsters do, and I thought it would be a good way to get to know your little  _ pets." _ She paused, looking at the humans. This time, however, she focused mainly on Damien. "I know, your little wordy poet-knight can tell you all about it." Damien stayed silent, but gave Visee an inquiring glare. "Speak, little poet. Tell  _ Lord  _ Arum what you have learned about our game."

Where he was once hesitant to speak, with this command Damien was suddenly unable to keep silent, though he did not seem to know where to start. He breathed deep to calm himself, and locked eyes with Arum, pointedly avoiding seeing anything else in order to maintain focus. At first, his voice was rough, then gradually became less so, though still faded from its usual vigor. "Within her game, for her amusement, my fate and Rilla's are. . . intertwined. If one of us speaks out without being told, or makes any effort to escape, or, or. . . does anything to displease her, the other is. . . punished." For just a moment, Damien squeezed his eyes shut and flinched, before composing himself and continuing. "By fist, foot, or claw, this does not stop until the offender ceases their behavior, or. . . ." The rest of his sentence seemed to get stuck in his throat, though the implication of it hung in the air like a looming blade. 

"See, this is why I had the poet talk. If I were explaining it, I would have just said that if one if them does something stupid, the other one is screwed." Visee took a few steps toward Damien, and tilted her head like she was studying him. Damien refused to look in her direction, a small attempt at control and denying her satisfaction. "Although," she said with a grin, turning back toward Arum. "this one did take a little while to figure out the rules, so it makes sense that he would know them well."

With this new information, Arum began to form an idea in his head about what must have happened.  _ The Cahnoors probably ambushed them, somewhere they felt safe, maybe Amaryllis' hut or in that area.  _ Even knowing his opponents, Arum could not imagine his humans captured easily, or without the Cahnoors being underhanded in some manner.  _ The big idiots would have been ordered to grab them, but only hurt them as part of this cruel charade. They would have attempted to separate them, which would have angered Amaryllis and enraged Damien. Being less of a warrior, Amaryllis must have been overpowered first. And clever as she is, she would soon realize that any struggle caused a corresponding attack on Damien, and stop fighting back if she found no other way. Damien, though. . . . Nothing would be able to stop him from attempting to free his love, not realizing until too late that every attack, every threat, every plea, only made things worse. Perhaps she even had to tell him to stop, the only voice that would ever be able to command him in such a state, except perhaps my own. _ The vision of how Arum imagined that this occurred flashed in front of his eyes, and filled him with equal parts rage and heartbreak. 

Though Damien continued to look away from Visee, doing his best to not acknowledge her, Arum could tell that her words cut Damien to the quick. His gaze slid instead toward Amaryllis, froze for a moment on the gashes across her arm, then lowered to the ground. "And for that I beg forgiveness, my Rilla, my forever-flower." Damien said, voice shaking. Almost as soon as the words left him, Damien jerked his head to look at Visee, evidently fearful that she would count this as "speaking out without being told." Luckily, she seemed to find this image, Damien struck by guilt, too amusing to punish, and did nothing but watch. 

_ Sweet Damien fears to speak. She has stolen my honeysuckle's words.  _

Amaryllis moved slightly, a wave of her hands to get Damien's attention. When she met his eyes, Amaryllis did not speak, (and oh, it wrenched Arum's heart now that he knew why), but her sad smile and the shake of her head expressed much.  _ Of course I'd forgive you, Damien, if there was anything to forgive. You are not to blame for this.  _ Her reassurance, though, did little to help Damien, judging by his face. 

Since her efforts had proven unsuccessful, Amaryllis instead glanced all around her, shifting from Arum, to Visee, to her brutish captor. Carefully, Amaryllis even turned as far as she could without endangering her own neck. Arum followed her stare, where it settled a pile of items haphazardly tossed in a pile not too far from them: a near empty quiver, an elegant bow, a sheathed sword, and a large, well-worn bag with medical supplies peaking out. Once more, Arum was tempted toward rage, knowing that these items were dear to the humans, and had been treated so poorly, so that it was likely at least some of them were broken or damaged. Amaryllis looked away quickly, and as he watched her, Arum was reminded of how she had been as she edged closer to figuring out how to cure his Keep. Thoughts seemed to run through her mind rapidly, and perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Arum hoped that he saw the beginning of a plan there. 

With a lick of her lips, Visee continued, pretending to ignore Damien’s outburst. “Well, that’s most of it, anyway. But I think you forgot something, little knight. Doctor-girl, why don’t you tell  _ Lord  _ Arum what I told your big, green friend, and what his own part will be?” Like Damien, Amaryllis took no chances in being unclear with the instructions she was given, and just stared at Visee. She waited for a direct command, though it evidently pained her to let anyone tell her what to do. “Do I have to be blunt with both of you? Geesh. Speak, before I have to demonstrate on you myself. Or rather, on. . . .” Visee grinned wider, and took a step toward Damien. 

“No, no, all right. Don’t.” Amaryllis spoke quietly, but forcefully, fear seeping into her voice despite her best efforts. Visee backed off and waited, expectantly, as Amaryllis took a breath before speaking to Arum. “This. . . monster” This word was said as it had not been since Arum himself had taken her, with disgust, as if she wanted to call their captor worse but dared not. “ _ convinced us  _ to contact the Keep, and then she told it to stay quiet and still, not letting you know what was going on.” The sarcasm in Amaryllis’ voice, through her forced restraint, caused Arum to delight in her defiance, having been on the receiving end of it enoug. “It was told that if it made any noise, or  _ moved so much as a leaf”  _ Arum could tell she was quoting Visee, attempting to match her speech pattern, coming dangerously close to mockery. “the result would be. . .” She hesitated, unable to keep up the illusion of confidence and bravado, and spoke faintly when she made herself continue. “. . . death. Of at least one of us, me or Damien. And she said the results would be the same if. . . if you did not listen to her. . . request, or refused to do as her master asked. And. . . and. . .” Amaryllis forced herself to continue, almost against her own will, knowing what would happen if she left out information. “. . .this Visee, she said that either way, you. . . Arum, she said she would make you choose. Who she would have killed.” Amaryllis went suddenly silent, pressing her lips together once more.

Ice filled Arum’s veins as the weight of these words reached him.  _ No wonder the Keep has been so unresponsive. It is scared for their lives, and rightly so.  _ He knew the Keep had grown fond of the humans of its own accord, in addition its need to care for Arum and, by extension, anyone who was dear to him. Like his Keep, Arum did not dare speak, knowing as he did now, but tried only not to show his fear, the only comfort he could afford to give them. The idea of  _ choosing  _ one of them to die threatened to send Arum reeling, so much that he dared not think about it for too long. 

With a cunning, questioning look, Amaryllis met Damien’s eyes, silently mouthing something to him that Arum could not interpret. It looked to be a question, perhaps  _ May I?  _ But what she was truly asking, Arum could not tell. At first, Damien did not seem to know either, but soon his eyes widened with understanding, and Damien nodded to her, slowly and grimly, but without hesitation. 

In a rush, Amaryllis spoke unbidden with desperation evident in her voice. She first spoke out into the air, looking up and around as she often did when talking to Arum’s home. “Keep, we are all right, we know you are holding back for us, trying not to  _ sound like when you were sick. _ Please just  _ wait and be ready _ , it will be okay.” Amaryllis then addressed Arum himself, her words tumbling over each other in her haste to get as many out as possible before being stopped. “And Arum, don’t worry about me and Damien,  _ dry your eyes _ , we will  _ knock down and put to rest _ this problem like we have others, I promise, Arum, please. . . .”

“Vin, take out your human or I will!” Visee screeched at one of the monsters, the one behind Damien. “This has gone on long enough.” The monster being spoken to shook his head, as if coming back from sleep. Amaryllis had just long enough to speak without sound once more, her mouth forming perhaps a handful of words to Damien, who steadfastly stared her way. Before Arum or either of the humans could react any more, this Vin retracted his claws and slammed his fist onto Damien’s head. 

Somehow, Damien barely made a sound as he crumpled forward, letting out only a small groan, barely heard over the  _ thump _ of impact as he hit the ground. He managed to fall onto his forearms, preventing any worse injuries, but he was still evidently in a great deal of pain. Damien shifted himself up to rest on his knees, bound wrists pulled tight against his side. There, his wound was still hidden from Arum's view, but the area around where Damien pressed was steadily staining red. His strength seemed to be sapped, at least momentarily, so he made little effort to move from that position.

“That’s better. I mean, I let you get away with it, Vib,” Visee spoke to her other crony, the one whose claws lingered by Amaryllis’ neck. “not punishing the doctor, because the little poet was making too funny of a face. Plus, I almost felt bad about the beating she had gotten earlier. Not quite, but almost. But this was getting too much, spouting such nonsense. Sappy, idiotic human.” Amaryllis pressed her hands to her mouth to stifle a sob. 

“So,  _ Lord _ Arum.” Visee turned toward him. “Now that you know exactly what is at stake for your human pets, what do you say? Of course, you’ll have to keep them in consideration before you give your answer. To be fair, I’m no doctor. Apparently, that’s her job.” Visee jerked a pointed hand in Amaryllis’ direction, which the monster probably hoped would get a reaction. Amaryllis, still in shock from the sight of Damien on the ground, barely gave her any notice. “Still, I don’t think they are looking so good. Don’t know how much more of this either of them can take before having. . . lasting damage. Or worse. So, you know, there’s that.”

A few tears flowed down Amaryllis’ face, and it was all Arum could do not to either brush them away, or to lunge at Visee for putting them there. Amaryllis paled to see Damien as he was, yet be unable to do anything, and Arum did not blame her, as the same pull was echoed in his own heart. With a deep breath, she steadied herself looking again into Arum’s eyes. Though she was weighed down with hurt, Arum still had hope that her mind was working through a solution.  _ She risked this, and Damien gave his blessing for her to do so, knowing full well the consequences. The audacity of reaching out to the Keep, and to me, with reassurance, when they are the ones  _ in pain- _ only humans could be this ridiculous.  _

But Arum knew there was more to her words than comforting, as some had been very pointedly said, and strange, not as she would normally speak.  _ Amaryllis has a plan, and she is trying to tell it to us.  _ His mind worked through her words, piecing some things together, but not yet having the whole picture.  _ Tell me, Amaryllis, how can I help? I would do. . . . near anything to end this madness.  _ Moving as little as possible. Amaryllis flicked her gaze from Arum to her bag and back again a few times, showing what she needed from him.  _ Not sure if this is part of her plan, or if she simply can no longer bear inaction when our Damien is hurt. Either way, this I can attempt.  _

“You have made your point, tktktktktk.” Arum managed to avoid snarling his words, doing his best to speak meekly- not that Visee would care, it was not in her nature, but so that she might at least be amused enough to listen to him. “I. . .I. . . I understand that you hold their very lives in your power, so I have little choice but to do what you say. I have one request, and if you do so, I will listen to what your employer asks of me, and if it is within my capability, I swear that I will do it.” His voice was a low rumble, and though he watched Visee, he lowered his gaze to avoid her grin.

“Glad to hear you’ve come to your senses. You’re being much more polite, too, showing some proper respect. It suits you.” Arum hated to let Visee’s words be said without response, but did so, swallowing his pride. Once more, Visee extended her claws, examining them almost as if bored. Yet, her delight seemed to mount at the recent events. “And what is this one request,  _ Lord _ Arum?”

“Give Amaryllis her medical supplies. Let her tend to Damien. As you have said, he needs it. If you still need your. . . assurance of my word, you needn’t give her anything that can be used to fight you or the others.” Bile rose in Arum’s throat as he bent further, almost bowing in his efforts to humble himself, anything to make her favorable to his request, though it almost physically pained him to do so. “Please, I just need to know that he. . . that they both will live, that they both will be alright. I. . . I. . . I beg of you, please.”

“You know what, sure, since you asked so nicely.” If another had spoken such words, Arum could almost have been convinced that this was out of mercy, but he knew it was just another way to taunt them. “I’d almost hate to see them lost, the odd little humans, after all this effort.” She raised a hand, the one with claws extended. Whether this was truly in making a serious vow, or simply the mockery of one, Arum could not tell, and only had a slim hope of the former. "As long as they follow the rules, she can see to his wounds, and use her supplies. And I even promise that as long as they behave and you do  _ exactly  _ as you have sworn,  _ Lord _ Arum, no more. . . major harm will come to your humans from me or mine." Arum had no idea where Visee drew the line of "major harm," and guessed it differed greatly from his own opinion, but dared not think on that too much. Visee did not bother to see if he agreed to these terms, but immediately began to carry them out.

With concerning speed, Visee strode over to the neglected pile of items, pulling out the healer’s bag. Casually, she retracted her claws, then dug through the bag, throwing haphazardly over her shoulder anything that could be remotely weapon-like: a specimen knife, a scalpel, even a short blade that Arum himself had given Amaryllis for protection in the woods. These landed far away, much too far to reasonably reach without issue. Once she was satisfied, Visee tossed the bag itself to the ground, about halfway between the two humans. The loud, crashing noise made Amaryllis give a sharp intake of breath, both in surprise and in distress at the potential damage to important supplies within it. 

Visee looked first to the two monsters, giving them their commands. “Let them go and give them a bit of space. Don’t go far, and don’t be stupid.  _ Pay attention this time.  _ Any move from either of them that you don’t like, let the other feel it.” Dutifully, the monster at Amaryllis’ back retracted his claws, and both took a step back from their prey, though they were still at the ready, within arm's reach. 

Then, Visee crouched next to Damien, where he still knelt on the ground. “Don’t go anywhere, now. You know what happens if you do.” Damien nodded, his expression dulled with pain. She grabbed at his wrists, pulling them roughly toward her, and cut the rope that bound him with an extended claw. Damien stretched his wrists and arms slightly, but stayed still otherwise. His lips moved in silent plea for  _ tranquility, tranquility, tranquility _ , forcing himself to stay alert.

When Visee approached Amaryllis, the doctor raised her wrists toward the monster, attempting to show that she would give no resistance. A quick slash made easy work of her bonds, but Visee was not finished with her. Visee leaned in close and seized at Amaryllis, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling until her grinning maw was next to Amaryllis’ ear. The monster whispered something to her, more like a hiss with words, though Arum could not make out what she was saying. Amaryllis shuddered, head drooping like it was weighed down by the world. “Fix him, little doctor.” Visee said, speaking up louder with an obvious sneer to her voice. “Arum and I have important business to discuss. You have until we are done, before we put away your toys- tools, sorry.” There was no apology to her tone, only mockery. “Be a good little human and I’ll make sure you’re both. . . taken care of.” Arum did not like the implications of her words, but there was no time for a reaction to them. Amaryllis had barely the chance to look up before she was suddenly twisted around and pushed, ending up on the ground right next to her bag. 

As her medical instincts took over, overriding any other feelings she might have, Amaryllis wasted no time. She searched and took out things she needed from her bag, dropping to the side in her haste anything not immediately necessary: old handkerchiefs and rags repurposed for cleaning and other uses, well-worn medical instruments that Arum did not know their purpose, a multitude of jars and containers discarded as soon as Amaryllis found that they did not contain anything of use for her at the moment. It was a comfort to Arum, though a small one, to see her easily slip into her professional role, and to be reminded of her skill.  _ Whatever else might happen, my honeysuckle will live, if Amaryllis has any influence on it, and she has much. Both she and Damien are entirely too stubborn to have any other result.  _ If things were not so dire in the moment, Arum would have laughed at the thought. 

“We have work to do,  _ Lord  _ Arum!” Visee declared. She strode away from the humans and their guards, not even bothering to watch them in her confidence, continuing past Arum, though barely a few strides. Two benches, made long ago by the Keep from twisted branches, were there, and Visee settled into one of them, gesturing for Arum to join her. Her grin was especially large, sharp teeth looking for all the world as if she was ready to devour just for the fun of it. “Let’s plan an abomination.” 

Not daring to look back, Arum joined her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long this took. Thanks to all those who have been reading so far, especially those who've commented.  
Vague medical warning, dealing with injuries, more than usual. (Apologies if I got anything wrong. If anything dealing with taking care of injuries is done incorrectly, that is on me, and not on Rilla's skill, let's be clear.) Also, general violence/threats warning, similar to before.  
Also, to help with the seriousness of this chapter: For fun, feel free to play Count the Junoverse references! Because I couldn't help but sneak them in. :)

When things were normal (normal for the three of them, at least), Arum had developed almost a fondness for watching Amaryllis take care of Damien, patching him up and helping him through his latest worries. Of course, Arum did not desire Damien to be hurt (or Amaryllis for that matter, though this was much less likely to occur), and his dear ones’ pain pulled at his heart every time it happened. But there was such a sweetness that shone through both of them during such times: in Amaryllis’ skilled, precise but gentle hands, in Damien’s voice gradually calming and every bit of him radiating gratitude, love practically palpable between them. 

Arum could still see a trace of this, as his humans knelt on the ground, Damien fighting through a pained daze and Amaryllis doing her best to heal him under stress and a time constraint. This was what his mind clung to as he watched from afar, yet tried his best to make it seem like he was not watching. Visee had already begun to speak, first describing her employer. She told of a large, spider-like monster with spindly legs that ended in points, the clacking of which apparently enough to strike fear into those under their power. Then, Visee began droning on about the gruesome devices that this monster, this Misoni, wanted made. Arum did his best to listen, or at least give the illusion of attentiveness. He knew well that he might be able to make what they desired, being well-versed in his own skill, though there was a concern whether there would still be the expectation that he would have the use of the hermit at his disposal. But Arum also knew, just as well, that he would not make these creations, if it was at all within his power. Still, to give Amaryllis and Damien time, Arum watched her, when not sneaking glances at the humans, and gave all the right noises of acknowledgement, so that she would continue. 

Deliberately, Amaryllis washed her hands with water from a flask. Then, slowly, carefully, Amaryllis pulled Damien’s shirt away from his wound and cleaned it with a new water-soaked rag. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she did so, planning every move and then some. She grabbed one of her glass bottles, filled with a clear liquid, which Arum could tell was not water but was not sure its true identity. Amaryllis’ hands were trembling as she peered at its label to verify its contents, eyes darting around in nervous energy. Arum met her gaze as she did so, assuring her in the only small way he could, and seeing his intent stare did seem to strengthen her resolve. With the hand not holding the bottle, Amaryllis softly reached out and caressed Damien’s cheek, holding his attention on her, constantly analyzing him. 

Another glance at the bottle, then at Damien’s wound, then a deliberate shake of her head.  _ That. . . That is not for cleaning a wound. Then what. . . . ?  _ The bottle slipped from Amaryllis’ hand, falling and spilling onto a pile of rags, which soaked in the clear liquid that once filled it. This seemed an accident, but Arum somehow knew it was not. One more glance toward Arum and a tapping at Damien’s hand made clear to Amaryllis that she had both of their focus, then she made a pointed indication between the chemical-soaked rags and the two monsters guarding the humans.  _ What does she mean by this, what is the purpose of. . . . Oh.  _ Memory and realization dawned in Arum’s mind, nigh to the same moment that Damien seemed to understand, though he had more freedom than Arum to show it, not as much under Visee's scrutiny. Just as well, as Damien always had trouble not showing on his face what was in his heart, and did not now have the energy to spare for such efforts. Hope grew, as well as determination, plain upon Damien's countenance.

A bit more sure this time, Amaryllis found another bottle, this one full of a soapy liquid, soaking a rag after assuring herself that not a drop from the other liquid had made its way to it. Once more, she dabbed at the gash in Damien’s side, this time cleaning around it. Arum marveled again at how little noise Damien made during what he knew was a painful process, only occasionally letting out the slightest groan, perhaps not even audible to those without Arum’s level of hearing. Just seeing it would have made Arum look away, not having Amaryllis' fortitude to stomach such things, if he did not already need to tactfully, sneakily divide his attention. Arum tried to keep up his watchful stare at Visee as she continued to speak, clearly enjoying her tale, most likely embellishing with her own interests. This was balanced with a constant awareness of the silent communication that was happening in front of him, that he needed to take in.

Next, Amaryllis found a container of ointment, which she slowly spread over the wound. Her brow furrowed in concentration, and as she shifted her weight to lean backward onto her feet, Amaryllis winced and sharply breathed in, holding back whatever noise she might have otherwise made. This sound brought back to Arum’s mind when Amaryllis had first returned to his Keep from the Terminus, and he realized that the pain in her ankle must have come back. Damien’s eyes widened at this, evidently worse for him than his own pain. He held her unoccupied hand and tilted his head, silently inquiring, but Amaryllis shook her head.  _ Not now. We need to stick to the plan.  _ With both of their attention on her, Amaryllis took the opportunity to express herself just a bit more, every move calculated. Her eyes darted between Arum and Visee, and she took her hand out of Damien’s grasp to sway it back and forth in the air, in an almost lulling motion.  _ Arum will keep her busy.  _

As he followed her eyes, the calm, steel confidence Damien exuded as a warrior began to return, at least in part. Damien slipped forward, flailing, seemingly in pain. It was soon evident to Arum that this was a ruse, as Damien managed to grab at the soaked rags so pointedly put aside. As he pulled himself up again, one was still curled carefully in Damien’s right fist, while at least one more was pushed toward Amaryllis’ knee. His eyes met Amaryllis’, then covertly found Arum’s as well.  _ I understand. Rilla and I take these two. We fight until we are victorious, and they threaten us no more.  _ Arum knew if Damien could speak, the knight would almost have been inclined toward empty reassurances, but though his resolve was great, Damien looked to be past such things. Instead, Arum imagined what he knew echoed in Damien’s mind, until it filled his own: declarations of love, interspersed with prayers.

One gap alone was left in Amaryllis’ plan as Arum thought it through. The next time Arum saw her eyes look his way, he stretched both his left arms, in a way that Arum hoped would be seen as simply that. Damien and Amaryllis, he knew, would see this differently: a less obvious version of the gesture both humans had developed the habit of using when referring to his Keep, attempting to point to a vague  _ everything _ in the limiting human way they did. (As with many of his humans’ habits, this had started as strange to Arum, but became endearing in a way with time.) As she saw this, Amaryllis’ eyes widened, and she gave him a barely detectable nod.  _ Oh, right. Of course.  _ She leaned down to inspect her work, checking over Damien’s wound, one hand skimming over the skin, barely touching it. Yet as she did so, Amaryllis weaved the fingers of her other hand within the grass she knelt upon. For a few moments, this hand was pointedly still, then she clenched her fingers together and shook the grass, the ghost of a grin crossing her face as her mind was filled with memory.  _ Bide your time, Keep. When the moment is right, give them hell. You know how.  _ There was no wind that Arum could tell that day, yet even when Amaryllis’ hand was lifted, the grass continued to move: just slightly, just enough. 

After another moment, Amaryllis found the bandages and tape needed, haphazardly tearing what she needed in her rush, likely not wanting to waste time looking for more precise tools, if she had any left that were not thrown away. As she pressed them to Damien’s skin, Amaryllis breathed deep in preparation for what they were to do. When she seemed satisfied that Damien’s injury was as close to cared for that the situation allowed, Amaryllis adjusted his clothes back to the way they were. Then, carefully, Amaryllis put up one hand, flat with its fingers spread. Damien lifted one of his own and pressed it to hers, mirroring her gesture. With flickering glances between Damien and Arum, Amaryllis’ mouth opened and closed a few times, as if she would not have had the words in the moment, even if she could speak. Her head shook in a quick banishment of thought, sentimentality given up under pressure. One by one, Amaryllis curled her fingers, until they ended in a fist that she then lowered.  _ Count down, Damien.  _ Arum realized one of his own hands had followed hers in the action of its own accord, as Damien laid his own flat hand into the grass by his knees. 

_ Five _

Another breath, and Damien moved one finger under the rest, as the very air seemed to thicken. 

_ Four _

At long last, Visee seemed to be coming to a conclusion in her list of inventions her employer wished for Arum to make, though whether this was a blessing or a curse, Arum could not decide. “. . . . the main reasons that Misoni sought you out. Most important is the protective barrier around their land, maybe like your leafy friend, but a bit more defensive and a bit less. . . talkative. Second most important is that fun idea they had for. . . testing loyalty, or whatever excuse they used. You and I both know they just wanted an easy and enjoyable way to acquire. . . a nice drink. The rest. . . well, if you can do those, too. You’ll probably be able to regain favor from the other monsters. You know, the ones who think you’ve. . . changed sides.” Though Visee spoke with a slight veneer of casual, equal conversation, her wide grin looked more like a predator about to tear apart its prey, seen as nothing more than meat. Arum focused mainly on Visee, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Damien’s hand twitch, pulling another finger under. 

_ Three _

“So, when do we get started,  _ Lord _ Arum?” Visee rose, striding closer to the others once more. Numbly, Arum followed.“Perhaps once you have completed one of your tasks, I will. . . .”

“Don’t you dare listen to her, Arum!” Amaryllis screamed as she rose, both fists clenched. “She won’t let us go, she told me herself! Her plan has always been to keep us, to milk you dry of your work and then watch as her boss tortures us to death for their fun and-” Her cry pierced Arum as the Cahnoor behind Damien wrenched him back to standing, attempting painful retribution once more. 

This time, however, Damien did not go easily- or quietly. “No, foul beast. No longer can I stay silent while those I love are brought to suffering.” Damien slipped out of the monster’s grasp, landing blows as he could, again and again, as the minion attempted to control him. “You shall not have my Rilla, or my Arum, or me! Not while I have breath, not while I-” All too soon, Damien was cut off with a scarcely seen flurry. Once more, Damien was within the creature’s grasp, tighter this time. One of the monster’s arms wrapped like a snake around Damien’s upper body, pinning him close to the creature. His other hand pressed claws to Damien’s neck, close enough to draw a thin trail of red along it. 

Desperately, Arum looked to Amaryllis, but she fared no better. Like Damien, her arms were pressed to her body, the other monster holding her with his claws pulling her neck upward, baring it. In the struggle, the monster’s claws had found their mark on Amaryllis once more, his handiwork stretching across her abdomen. The only hope that Arum could dare was found when he saw both of Amaryllis’ hands clutched in full, defiant fists, same as one of Damien’s. On his other hand, one more finger slowly bent inward. 

_ Two _

"You know, I suppose she is right,  _ Lord _ Arum.” Visee said, circling around Arum. Maddeningly, Arum could do nothing but stand frozen, the twitch of his tail around his ankles the only movement he allowed himself. “You and your little  _ pets _ are far too valuable to give up so soon. I suppose it’s my own fault, having too much of a good time here,couldn’t resist bragging. Silly me.” Her mirthful chuckle caused no joy in anyone but herself, except perhaps the other Cahnoors, whose mouths stretched in an imitation of Visee’s own, less clever but no less a cause of fear.

“But that doesn’t mean that we can’t make this a long-term deal.” At an upward movement of Visee’s head, both of her cronies squeezed their victims even tighter, though Arum did not think this possible before, so that both gasped, barely able to take in breath. “Either you start working,  _ now,  _ with some  _ satisfactory results _ , or you get to see both of your little humans’ heads decorating the ground.” 

Unnoticed by Visee, the grass at their feet swirled around them. Damien attempted, futilely, to meet eyes with Amaryllis, but settled for the assurance of her steady hands. Though his hand trembled, Damien moved another finger inward.

_ One _

Visee stopped behind Arum, resting one of her forearms on Arum’s shoulder, uncomfortably close as she snarled in Arum’s ear. “So, what will it be?”

_ Love you so much, my Amaryllis, my Damien. My humans, whatever happens next, know this.  _ Arum wanted to say, tried to say, with nothing but his eyes. 

As time seemed to slow, Damien’s empty hand mirrored his other, both clenched in fists.

_ Zero _

“No.” Arum’s tail sweeped behind him, with as much speed and force as he had within him. He could feel Visee fall onto her back, feet knocked out from under her. For a shocked moment, Visee lay unmoving as Arum watched, not daring to breathe.

Whatever brief triumph Arum dared feel left within seconds. A screech from Visee broke the silence. “Kill them!” She commanded Vin and Vib, springing to action so quick that Arum could hardly keep up. He was pulled onto the ground with her by grasping arms, already feeling claws slicing at wherever on him Visee could reach. Arum scrambled away, but Visee stood, pushing her foot unto his back, so he could go no farther. “You are dead, you traitorous not-even-monster! Screw my orders, I will kill you myself, and enjoy it, too.” 

Around Arum, the world exploded in movement, and harsh sounds, and pain.

_ As long as she is occupied long enough that Damien and Amaryllis survive.  _ Only this thought was clear enough to stay in Arum’s mind, until it was his whole being, his whole purpose.  _ I will do whatever it takes, only let them be free.  _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where things Really Happen. It is definitely longer than the previous, mainly because the few times I almost found a stopping point, I didn't want to stop. Much less of a cliffhanger than previous, so that's good, probably.  
Also, specific tags for this chapter. I will also put a detailed summary of the story in the end notes, so if you're concerned, check there, but those will be spoilery.
> 
> TW/Tags:  
-Fight scenes, though nothing too graphic  
-Injuries, including implied broken bones  
-Capture and painful, forced captivity of a main character (briefly)  
-Perceived main character death (not really happening, but briefly perceived as such)  
-Grief, depressive/almost suicidal thoughts/speech (brief but present)  
-Small amount of swearing (just one bit of dialogue)  
-Forced unconsciousness through specific means (spoilery)
> 
> So, uh. On the flip side, this is the last chapter where things are Very Bad for the Bouquet. Hope you enjoy this one, especially the ending.  
Also, I have some ideas already for the ending of the entire story. It should be 1-2 more chapters, depending on how I end up dividing it up. There is even a few snippets of dialogue I already have written. For the low, low, price of message-me-if-you're-interested, I can share them early if you'd like, since actually writing the whole thing might take awhile. I am on tumblr and on the Discord (Snecond Citadel More Like SNingus Citadel) under the same name.

Arum ran. As fast, as hard as his legs could push him, his feet pounding, propelling him as his home flew by, Arum ran. He was so overwhelmed with the _ sounds _surrounding him that he could scarcely perceive anything he passed. 

_ Mine mine my children hurt they I we afraid please stop. _ The Keep's screams resounded, reverberated, sank into Arum’s soul, so pained that its feelings could almost be put into words. _ Mine mine my Arum oh my Arum, mine hurt help please, I am yours you are mine they are yours you are theirs they are mine, mine mine no stop no no no. _As the cacophony of emotion it made crescendoed and faded, again and again, Arum felt their echoes pulse within him. The groans that he could not hold back as these waves washed over him joined with heavy panting caused by his lungs afire as he fought to keep running. Their connection sent his distress and the Keep's back and forth between the two of them, yet provided both with the smallest sliver of comfort, knowing the other could hear and continued on. 

This was twined within Arum with another small but ever-present thought: his loves still lived, against all odds. He would not let himself get too close to them, ever moving away as much as he could, despite his desire of the opposite. Arum knew that he was most certainly out of sight of them, though he did not dare to let himself look in their direction or slow to find where they were. But he could _ hear _them, both of them, barely, but just enough to keep him going. He could not tell if it was just his own senses, focused so much on any scrap of reassurance that could be found, or if this was relayed to him through the Keep, one more small favor to help him. Either way, this was the other lifeline Arum clung to like he was drowning. 

"Hey, you trout-faced numb-skulls. . . think you could. . . . Actually, _ do _ you think at all, without _ her _ to think for you? Probably not- oh!"

"My Rilla, my love, I have you! Pestilent piscines, I swear by all the Saints that you shall not prevail! With Saint Damien’s tranquility. . . flowing through me. . . I will protect my loves. . . and my home. You shall not. . . ."

Their words were accompanied, and soon drowned out, by the noises of battle, sounds Arum knew too well: a haunting echo of his own fights with Damien, though also greatly contrasted, not in the least by a dramatic shift in Arum's hopes for the outcome. Even from a distance, Arum could hear the pain and fear straining their voices, magnifying his worry for their safety. But this was hidden beneath such resolution and anger that Arm almost would not have heard it if he did not know them well. Biting and fierce in spirit from Amaryllis, zealous, righteous wrath from Damien, both so clever, so quick-witted, so very _ his _ that it drove him onward. Made him think again: of the two of them, and the Keep, and their survival. This was when he came to understand that the Keep, in its wisdom, was ahead of him in this matter.

Strangely at first to Arum, the Keep had almost _ weaponized _ its speech against the intruders. He soon realized that every increase in volume and fervor of the Keep's song, though mostly unpleasant to Arum, was worse for Visee: causing her to flinch, to hold her head, to lose ground and no longer be at Arum’s heels, at least temporarily. Once this understanding sunk in, Arum sought to use these brief respites to his advantage, turning them toward ground difficult to maneuver for those who did not know it, making the path itself harder to traverse, whatever could slow her down, keep her busy longer. _ I am no fighter, but an architect, a creator. My true work requires time, which I have none of now. Still, I can at least use my knowledge to my advantage. _For a time, this seemed to work, causing Visee to work her way through forcing a path instead of following the ways that Arum knew well. Yet, this success did not last, not helped by the way Visee's rage grew with each impediment, causing them to hinder her less and less. 

Still, Arum ran, and did his best to lure her away, using his very home as a stalling tactic, with its help and blessing. Every effort, every thought was wrapped in this one goal, putting aside all else. After some time, Arum could not tell how long, he became aware that he was slowing, his body wearing down in spite of his determination. The thought had barely crossed Arum’s mind before Visee, snarling in wordless fury, caught him and forced him to the ground for the second time. Instinctually, Arum curled himself, dodging blows from her feet and slashes from her claws. This felt increasingly in vain, Visee’s attacks outmoving his thought, let alone his body, more often than not. Gashes crossed his back, digging through scales into his muscle. Arum attempted to bring himself upright with two of his arms, the other two flailing to push her away or fight back. Both of these eventually found their mark, Arum returning in kind what had been given to him as best he could, while pushing himself almost to standing. 

"You can't _ escape me, _ you cowardly _ freak. _" Visee grabbed Arum’s lower left arm, forcing him to lose what little balance he had and tumble backwards. She slammed his arm into the ground with both hands, harder and harder until there was a sickening noise and the pain from it made Arum cry out, his voice already hoarse. He struggled against her with his other limbs, though nothing seemed effective. 

_ No my Arum no no no! _ At the Keep's wailing, Visee recoiled, falling away as if suffering from a physical blow. Seizing the opportunity, Arum lifted himself up, as swiftly as he could manage, injured arm limp against his side, and ran once more. It became quickly obvious that he was already slower than he had been, and the small second wind he found would not last. But he knew few other options, and none of them good, and so he continued on.

When he listened now, Arum knew for certain that the Keep was sending him what it heard from the humans, unlikely as it was that even Arum could hear them through such volume. 

"Arum, don't give up. We love you. . . . We need you."

"Oh, my lily. By the Saints Above, I swear to you, we will triumph." 

Their voices echoed in his mind, overlapping, blending with his memories of them and rekindling his desire to see them safe again. Despite this, Arum knew well that his breath came with more difficulty with each moment, and the pain that emanated from his arm could not be repressed forever. Grimly, Arum found a flat piece from a fallen tree, holding it in his functioning left arm to shield himself, especially to protect his wounded arm. In his right arms, he hefted two pieces of wood, almost reminding him of Damien’s practice sword. Wielding them as best he could, worn as he was, Arum walked back down the path and faced Visee, who was by this time rising, recovering all too quickly.

"Are you done running yet, _ Lord _Arum?" At first, Visee seemed to have barely been affected, but at second glance, Arum noticed that she leaned heavily to one side, and that her still mocking, toothy grin was now tinged with blood. Yet, the maniacal energy she had exuded since Arum’s final refusal had not waned. "I'm tired of playing along with your ruse. Of course, I know this was all to keep me away from your humans, to delay their deaths. No point, really, and I think you know that, too. So, let's save us both some trouble."

It was true that Arum did not feel that he could go on much longer, that more and more he felt his actions were only delaying the inevitable, at best. Yet he could not stop, as long as there was a chance, a possibility that this might end differently for Damien and Amaryllis, and that he could do something to bring this about. Arum felt no need to tell Visee this, or anything really, both because he wished to speak with her as little as possible, and so as to not waste valuable, depleting breath. Instead, he charged at her with all he had, foot and claw and body. Through pain, through fear, through doubt of any effectiveness, Arum fought. Nothing else existed in his mind, but this goal. 

And he found himself failing. Every move he made countered, every attempt ending in the same outcome: Arum fallen, scrambling to get up, to try again and again. 

Until he could not anymore. Arum at last could not force himself to move, felt his very senses fading with nothing he could do about it. No longer could he hear his loves’ voices, the Keep’s song only an echo in his mind, his sight blurring at its edges and going in and out sporadically. Cruelly, some things still remained. Visee cackled as she lifted him almost upright and dragged him, pushing him along bodily, and though he could no longer focus enough to make out what she said, nor did he want to, her intent was clear. She knew where she was going, or at least what she was going toward. 

All too soon, Visee found it. They had been travelling through an area dense with trees, but had now come to a place that was a bit less so, sloping upright and becoming a small hill. Having reached where she wished to be, Visee pushed Arum to the ground, so that he fell backwards at the base of a large tree. Beneath another, backs pressed against it, stood Amaryllis and Damien, holding on to life, just barely. Damien stood just in front of Amaryllis, protecting her to the end, a limb of a tree wielded like a sword in one shaking hand, the other still tense in a fist. The herbalist he shielded clung to his waist, inches away from collapsing and mostly blocked from his view. In front of them, in between Visee and the humans, Arum found the Cahnoors. One was on the ground not far from them, most likely recently knocked aside by Damien. The other, however, was standing, not far from Damien’s makeshift weapon, claws outstretched and closing in. Without thought, Arum cried out at the sight. 

Both humans looked his way, stricten momentarily still. “Arum!” Amaryllis exclaimed with what little strength she had left, a strange mix of relief and agony filling her voice. In a daze, she stepped slightly toward him, out from behind Damien’s protection. The moment of distraction was all that the nearer of the Cahnoors needed to breach the gap and seize her. Quicker than Damien could react, let alone Arum, the Cahnoor sliced her with his claws. 

Once. Twice. Each time, followed by a pained scream. As the monster pulled his arm back for a third, possibly final blow, Damien dived, covering her with his body, pulling her away from the monster. "No, Rilla, Rilla! Please, my love, I cannot lose you, cannot lose either of you, please. Your heartbeat, your breath, entwined with mine and our Arum's. I still feel it, still know you are with us, my brave Rilla. I am here, we are here, oh, my Rilla, my love." Damien’s stream of words barely paused for shaky breath before changing direction slightly. "Oh, Saints, please. Saint Damien, your tranquility, your mercy. Do not let her be taken from me, from us, please, I beg you, please."

Too out of breath and mind too overwhelmed to speak, still Arum attempted to move, falling into a crawl through the thick grass toward the humans. Visee turned back toward him, grin wide from watching her minion at work. Swiftly, she lifted Arum to standing and slammed his back against the tree. "And what makes you think you can leave? I certainly didn't say you could." Visee sneered, licking her teeth as she spoke. With her left hand, Visee held Arum in place by the shoulder. The other pulled the wrist of Arum’s upper left arm, until it was even with Arum’s head. Then, she carefully lined up her fist with that wrist and extended a claw from either side of her hand until it entered the tree holding Arum in place. Within a moment, his other upper arm met the same fate, securing him. Satisfied, Visee slightly extended the three remaining claws on each hand, until they rested against his skin: not enough to puncture him, but along with the others, enough to make sure even the slightest movement of either of those arms would be very painful. "No, I don't think you're going anywhere, you miserable filth." 

Arum thrashed, kicked, jerked, moved in any way he still could, all to no avail, feeling the sting of claws against his arms and giving no heed. Though Arum could make no intelligible sound, beyond groans of pain of both the body and mind, the Keep put his distress and its own to sound, to almost-words. But either the Keep felt too much Arum’s own weariness, or Visee had grown immune in her single-mindedness, as all this did was make her laugh. Under all this, Damien still spoke, to Amaryllis, to his Saint, perhaps even to Arum. The captured monster could make out few words, and could glean none of the faint signs of life from Amaryllis herself. There was no chance left for Arum to see his loves, between the blurring of his sight and Visee blocking his view. And so, Arum clung to the poet's voice, his speech proof of another moment that both humans lived still. 

And so it seemed especially vile when Visee spoke, drowning out all else. "No, you're not going anywhere ever again, since I have you now, helpless and stuck. Their deaths will be the last thing you hear, your last agonizing thought. And then you will die." Visee turned, just slightly, not enough to free Arum from her grasp, and spoke commandingly. "Finish her off, and him, too. I want their bodies at my feet. Now."

And Arum heard. And wished he could not, yet didn't dare not.

"Rilla?" Damien’s voice was breathy, uncertain, before escalating frantically. "Oh, Saints, Ri-, Ar-" Damien stopped suddenly.

Sounds of a scuffle, of Damien falling, of grabbing and movement.

Crude grunts from the Cahnoor and a piercing cry from Amaryllis.

A thump against the ground, far too loud in Arum's ears.

A keening wail, sharp and erratic, engulfing him, from the Keep.

The slightest of pauses, between noises, between preparation and action.

When Damien spoke, it was with a tone that the knight himself would have described as _ monstrous _not long ago: past fear, past sadness, the embodiment of wild ferocity. "Saints, give me strength, give me vengeance. I will be the arrow that brings them down. For those I love, I will end these monsters." 

Savage sounds from both monster and man, the patter of quick footsteps, and noises of impacts, one upon the other, so advantage was unclear. 

Until one final yell from Damien, and another loud thump, the ending painfully the same.

And a muffling silence fell over everything. No noise from any creature within the Keep could break it. Even the Keep itself said _ nothing _ , not aloud and not through its connection to Arum. Either it wished to shield Arum from what it felt, thinking to help, or what it felt was this lack, this _ nothing _, where so much had been felt moments before. 

For this was what had permeated Arum until all else was gone: a numbness, a _ nothingness _ , that he could not shake, could not even desire to change. He no longer felt pain, in his body or mind, simply because he no longer _ felt _, at least in any way that mattered. No longer did he attempt to resist or free himself, and Arum’s head drooped onto his chest. Even his breath grew shallow and hitched, the only sound he could hear.

Eventually, Arum managed to notice one other sound that was attempting to break through his haze. Visee spoke, mocking and victorious. "So much for your humans. So much for your Keep and kingdom. You make a pretty pathetic lord, Arum. And your humans weren't much to speak of, either." She paused. "Well, you did keep my young ones _ busy _for awhile. And me, too, I'll admit." Once more, Visee laughed. "But that's all done with now." 

Another pause. "And to think, this all could have been avoided if you'd just worked with me in the first place. Could have been a lot easier on you. And them, too, probably."

Flashes of memory and thought flitted through Arum’s mind. _ No. They. . . . They wouldn't want. . . . _ But that thought hurt too much, pain worse than the emptiness, so Arum couldn't bear to let it linger. Slowly, Arum raised his head, to look Visee in the eyes. Though his words came out in pants, barely heard aloud, Arum spoke. "R. . . Ra. . Rather. . . ." A big breath, as much as he could muster, and he spoke his heart in one phrase. "Rather die." _ Than hurt them, than help you, than be a part of such things again. _

"That's exactly what. . . ."

"Unhand my love or you will regret it, foul beast." Arum could barely take in that he heard this voice, ringing with authority and conviction, not even daring to name its source in his mind. Until he heard another, just as shocking, but just as desired.

"I'd do it, if I were you." Higher, with an almost sing-song, smug tone. "_ He's _ quite skilled at dealing with monsters. Best in the kingdom, I'd say. Me, I've had less experience, but I've found I'm _ fairly _ good at it, too, if I do say so myself. So you _ really _should stop getting between Arum and us."

With one abrupt motion, Visee pulled her hands out and away from the tree, then spun around toward the ones speaking. This left Arum to slide downward, sprawled out like a hatchling's discarded plaything. A renewal of hope surged through him like a rushing river, forcing focus into every part of him. Arum's eyes snapped to where he had last seen Amaryllis and Damien, but they were not there. Instead, both Cahnoors were on the ground, limbs splayed and unmoving. Arum found what he suddenly knew he would next to both of them, and almost smiled. _They are the ones who fell and were stilled, and not my loves. _This thought brought Arum a tentative, small joy, yet the fact that he did not see Damien and Amaryllis tugged at Arum’s heart.

Then, he looked _ up _, and found them.

Amidst the branches of the tree, beneath which Arum feared he had lost them, sat the two humans. The Keep had created a haven for them inside the tree's crook with its vines: widening, wrapping around and around the branches, cushioning and holding both of those in its care, always gently, never tightly. _ It lifted them to safety, when it saw them counter one danger, to keep them away from another. _ They sat in repose, almost regally, though Arum knew this was mostly an act. Damien, tranquility itself, was slow and moved very little, deliberate in a way that was unlike his usual mannerisms. And the glare Amaryllis gave Visee, haughty, as if she were studying her like a specimen, could not hide from Arum the fact that her hands shook, though she tried to conceal them by her sides. The smiles they managed to give Arum said to him _ hope, we will prevail _ but also _ caution, careful, hold on _ , but mostly _ love _.

"What-What _ the hell _ did you _ do to them _ ? How the _ fucking hell _are you. . . .?" Visee seethed, ignoring Arum in her newfound confusion. 

"_ Human _ ingenuity." Amaryllis said, her growing grin a purposeful parody. With a glance at Damien. " _ Human _ strength and stubbornness." 

_ Are you sure _ only _ human, Amaryllis? I seem to remember helping significantly with this project of yours. _ Amaryllis slowly moved a clenched hand, inching backwards. _ But if this works, I will let you take all the credit, if that's what it takes. _

"Frankly, my fishy foe, if you have not found the way by which we have foiled your plans, that is the fault of your own faculties, and not a reflection of ours." As Damien paused, just for a moment, Arum noticed a vine extend slightly, wrapping around something from Amaryllis's hand that was held behind her back. The vine retreated, dragging the item with it, down the trunk of the tree out of sight. Amaryllis leaned backwards on her hands, as if this was all that movement had been for. 

Damien forged ahead, keeping Visee's attention in a purposeful way. "Strange, though. I had thought you to have a formidable mind. Even now, I would not say your reputation is _ entirely _exaggerated. If not for our Arum, I would estimate you higher, amongst monsters or in general."

"To be fair, if not _ for Arum _, you might not have learned that monsters speak at all." The faintest of emphasis in Amaryllis's voice was met with a small hum in the back of Arum’s mind, where it met with the Keep. "And data is still inconclusive on the other ones. Not sure if it's that you're special, or your lackeys are just slow on the uptake. Maybe both."

The growls from Visee did not support the claim of her intellect, nor did the creeping extension of her claws, unconsciously out of her control. This was a delicate balance to walk: keeping her distracted, while not making her lose control. So far, it seemed that between the height they had been brought to- a few feet up from her head, at least- and the constant movement of the vines, ready to defend or even strike, Visee was not risking anything, at least not toward the humans. But Arum wasn't sure how long that would last. 

"True indeed, my Rilla." He looked in her eyes, meeting her forehead with his own for a brief moment. Then, he softly touched one hand to his own heart, the other to Amaryllis's, and quickly glanced at Arum, then back to her. She gave the smallest nod of understanding, which pleased Damien. Within seconds, this exchange passed, almost unnoticeable to those not looking for it. Satisfied, Damien resumed looking down at Visee, unwavering and confident, or at least convincingly acting so. "Yet, even if you do have the intellect, along with the strength, that you are so famed to have, I would still argue that you are lacking in very basic understanding and perception." 

"He means you're stupid." Rilla interjected. "And yeah, you've missed something pretty big, and that's why you're where you're at, and we're where _ we're _at."

"And what would that be, humans?" Visee's question had a bite to it as sharp as her teeth, curiosity and anger getting the better of her. Unseen by her, the vine that had been near Amaryllis's hand had crept all the way down the tree, and now was slowly sneaking through the grass, closer and closer to Arum, though giving Visee a wide berth. 

"I have noticed that you refer to Rilla and myself as _ Arum’s _ . That is not incorrect in the slightest. Granted, you seem to do so in a derogatory manner, as if we humans are lesser, which I feel very inaccurate, and in a way that you would speak of possessions, which is rather unsettling. To be fair, I had some rather uninformed opinions about monsters until very recently, so I can only fault you so much on that perspective. Yet, though it is in a way that you are most likely not meaning to imply, we _ are _ his_, _and don’t deny this.” The rising feeling that Arum had at Damien’s words made him wish he could rush to him and embrace his silly poet, and Amaryllis along with him. But that would have to wait. “I know that Arum. . . fights for us, and has done and given much for us, and for this I am grateful beyond words.”

When Amaryllis continued where Damien left off, the fire that Arum loved to see in her so much sparked in her eyes and was evident in her voice. “But you don’t see the full picture. We are _ his, _ but he is _ ours _ , too.” As Visee watched her, Arum found that the vine had snaked all of the way to him, stopping by his hand. Carefully, he edged his upper right arm toward it and grabbed what it held, a soaked rag, then did his best to keep it hidden. “Like I said, we humans are _ stubborn _. We will do whatever it takes when we set our minds to something, especially when it means protecting those we love. And I feel like Damien and I are probably even more devoted and determined than most humans.” Arum, ever so cautiously, tried to sit up, then to rise to a crouch, preserving what tiny amount of energy he had regained, staying alert while being as inconspicuous as possible. “So, yeah, you caught us off guard, and you had us going. But we will never give up when it comes to Arum. Which means you don’t stand a chance.” Amaryllis widened her grin, then coyly covered in with her hand, sweeping her gaze so she could look in Arum’s eyes without drawing attention to him. 

“Actually, you know what, you big weirdo? I thought of another _ conspicuous _ thing you haven’t _ noticed. _” Amaryllis spoke in the same way that Visee did, emphasizing words that sounded strange in the monster’s mouth. At her side, Damien gave Arum a nod, which told him to be prepared and follow through when ready, and a fleeting, worried half-smile, which told him much more. 

“That’s it, I’m coming up there and taking you down myself. And if I have to do some hacking at the plant while I’m at it, I’m doing that, too.” Visee raged. She was just about to stride toward the tree and climb, taking down whatever was in her way. 

And Arum took this as his opportunity, and leaped. 

In one motion, Arum pressed the soaked rag against Visee’s mouth and nose, forcing her to breathe in the concoction that was within it. His other upper hand seized her jaw, holding her mouth so she couldn't bite him, though she was already attempting to do so. With all Arum had, he gripped on to Visee: one lower arm wrapped around her side, legs and tail hooked onto wherever he could, all to hold her long enough for it to take effect. In an effort to shake him off, Visee forced them downward, so they both felt the impact against the ground. Back and forth, Visee flailed, pulled both of them to roll, did whatever she could to attempt to push him off her, but somehow, Arum still held on. _ Stubborn like my humans. _

"I believe what Rilla was about to say was that you are _ remarkably susceptible to delay tactics. _" Damian quipped. Visee stopped moving, dawning realization setting in. At the same time, Arum let out a hacking laugh, tightening his grip with every limb, especially his upper arms. Within seconds, Visee frenzied once more, so that Arum could have no thought but holding on, ignoring pain new and old to just keep going. 

All at once, Visee fell limp and unresisting.

It took Arum a few seconds to become fully aware of this fact, and this awareness did not initially come with a belief that it was actually real. After a few more, Arum let himself hope, releasing his grip and making himself come to a stop. Though he could barely pull his head upright, he looked to see Visee tumble still, eventually ending up on her back with a loud thump.

And there she lay, no more to hurt or hinder them.

Instantly, Arum gave a whimpering sigh and felt himself fading. His head hit the ground and his eyes closed. 

He heard. "Arum! Keep, let me down, let me help!"

He heard. "My lily, my love, hold on. The worst has passed. You are safe, as are us all, and now we will mend together."

He heard. _ Arum, mine, all here, all healing. Love you, my only, my Arum. _

In and out, seeing nothing but the occasional flashes in his vision like silver stars. 

He feels, and knows he lives, and will live, and is even glad of this. He feels human hands- precise yet gentle, strong but soothing, and feels the Keep, both in vines that caress and through their connection, firm now in his mind. 

"Rest now, Arum. Doctor's orders."

"I will assure that our lovely doctor rests as well, Arum. Sleep, and know we will be at your side when you awaken." 

All around Arum rings the Keep's lilting song, quietly echoed by human voices. He hums an answer, and is lulled to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary of the chapter, for those who skipped here for more details on the TW:  
-Arum leads Visee away from the humans to keep her busy. The humans attempt to defend themselves from the other monsters. The Keep's distressed song hurts Visee, which Arum uses to his advantage.  
-Visee catches Arum. They fight, and Visee one of breaks one of Arum's arms. Visee is temporarily held off by the Keep's song, but Arum eventually is overpowered.  
-Arum is dragged to where the humans are, who are cornered by the other monsters. Arum tries to go to them, but Visee grabs him, pins him with her claws to a tree by the arms, blocks him from seeing the humans.  
-Visee orders the other monsters to kill the humans. Arum hears fighting and what he assumes is the humans' death. Arum falls into a numb/depressive state (think at his worst at the Terminus). When Visee mocks him, saying this could have been avoided if he'd helped her, he says he would rather die.  
-The humans speak, revealing they survived. Visee releases Arum to find out what happened. The other monsters are on the ground and the humans are up in the tree, brought there by the Keep, still in a bad shape but alive. (Small amount of swearing by Visee, just 2 "hell"s and a "fuck".) Rilla gives an item to Arum, brought to him by one of the Keep's vines, sneaking it down the tree and through the grass. The humans banter with Visee, while Arum grabs the item, which is the cloth that Rilla had soaked earlier.  
-While she is distracted, Arum tackles Visee and puts this liquid by her mouth, which knocks her out after some resistance.  
-When he realizes she is not a threat anymore, Arum passes out. He hears the humans and the Keep, knowing they are all right and that they are taking care of him.


End file.
